Category: Characters

Coming Around (Part 6)

Posted Mish6 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

The restaurant was unusually crowded. Paridhi and Subrato had to wait outside for a table to get free.

“Paridhi. What are you doing here?” A woman in her early 50s recognized her.

Paridhi was startled, but managed to reply, “Hello Auntie. Actually we had a class dinner. This is our professor – Dr. Sen. Both of us reached early. We are waiting for others to come.”

“Ah! Okay. You people have luxurious ways of studying. Professors taking you to dinner and all,” it was difficult to figure out if she was impressed or being skeptical, “In our days, we used to be scared of our professors.”

“Educators have realized over time,” Subrato chipped in, “That being friends with students is a better way of getting them to learn than scaring them.”

“Sure. Of course,” the woman found it difficult to counter that and took their leave.

“You are a smooth liar,” Subrato grinned after the woman had left.

She was not amused, “It was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have come.”

“Hey. What happened? Who was she, anyway?”

“A prospective mother-in-law. She lives in Lucknow. I don’t know what will she tell Mummy now…”

“Relax. Your story was good. And if needed I will stand your witness. Come on now. We had come here to cheer you up. Don’t get depressed again.”

“Yes. Of course. Sorry. I think our table is ready…”

“Paridhi. I…” he started saying when they were seated.

“Why do you pronounce my name like that? It’s Pa-ri-dhi and not Po-ri-di!” she was extremely irritated.

“What is my name?” he asked calmly.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you pronounce my name?”

“I… I don’t know. I never call you by your name.”

“Try it.”

“Subrat… I mean Subrato Sen,” she replied awkwardly.

He laughed out loud at her discomfort in getting the Bengali pronunciation of his name right. “I think it does not matter how you call someone. What matters is whom you are calling.”

“I am sorry. And I have lost count of how many times I have said sorry to you…”

“It’s all right. You are worried and…”

“No. It’s not. It is unfair that you bear the brunt of my frustrations…”

“Well. Today I am the reason of your frustration. It was my idea to bring you here.”

“It was up to me to accept or reject it. How could you possibly have known…”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.”

Paridhi sighed and changed the subject, “Shall we order?”

“Yeah.”

“You remember when I had given a surprise test in the class?” Subrato asked during dinner.

“Yes. Very well. You never gave another surprise test. You didn’t care about attendance either. Wonder what had come upon you?”

“I was very upset that day. I didn’t think I could teach. That was a last moment solution to avoid having to work.”

“What made you so upset?”

“It was something that had happened a year ago actually,” Subrato said and then narrated the story of Stacey.

“I… I’m sorry about that,” Paidhi looked genuinely affected.

“I am trying to get over it. I guess I am already quite successful.”

“But doesn’t talking about it bring back the bad memories?”

“You mean to ask why I shared it with you?”

“Well… yeah…”

“Two reasons. One is that willingly or unwillingly, you shared some of your most personal problems with me. I liked that you did so. And I did not want you to be uncomfortable about it. Now, we both have each other’s secrets. So, we can feel secure about our own being kept safe.”

Paridhi chuckled at that and asked, “And second?”

“Second is that I needed to share it with someone who won’t react by extolling the virtues of Indian arranged marriages.”

Paridhi laughed out loud at that, “That was very clever of you indeed. Choosing someone who is a victim of arranged marriage system to share it with. You get all the sympathies. All the options look very bleak for both of us then.”

“They do, don’t they? And thank God. You laughed. Even if it was at the bleakness of options.”

“You make it sound like I am always crying or something. I have nothing against laughing.”

“No. You don’t. That’s what makes it heartbreaking when you are sad or distressed.”

She sighed and shrugged, “I wish God thought about it the way you do. He seems to revel in creating troubles for me… For all of us…”

“God is a tricky topic to discuss. We should stay focused on the topic of marriages.”

“Or food. How did you like the kebabs?”

“They are delicious. Good choice of restaurant.”

“Thanks. But you must really try the road-side ones. I don’t know if it’s the pollution, the dust or the unhygienic water, but they taste much better.”

“Wow! With that description, you just pushed the possibility of me eating them a few years further in future.”

“Your loss!”

“Indeed!”

—

“Really? Your marriage is fixed? With that woman’s son?”

“Looks like.”

“So, I didn’t do much harm, after all. She didn’t have any complaints against you roaming around with another man?” Subrato grinned.

“Looks like, she didn’t.”

Subrato looked at her for a second and then asked with concern, “You don’t look happy. You don’t like the guy?”

“How would I know? I haven’t met him.”

“Excuse me? How can the marriage be fixed like that?”

“How do I explain something to you, which I myself don’t understand?” she looked dejected and was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, Paridhi. I am, obviously, not helping. I wish I could… But you definitely would know better than me on how to handle the situation. Obviously asking you to rebel against your family is not a solution.”

“No. It isn’t. Thanks for understanding that.”

“Can I help in any way?”

She shrugged with a sad smile. How could he possibly help?

“But I can listen. And I will try to listen without falling for the temptation of giving advice that is not useful to you.”

“You know what. There is one man in the world who I can marry this blindly.”

“Who?” Subrato asked with a raised eyebrow wondering what she was talking about.

“The man for whom your American girlfriend left you. He is supposedly better than even you, right?” she laughed at her own joke.

“Now arranging that would be some revenge I could take on her, and help you at the same time. But I think we will have to do with something more practical.”

“Like discussing the project.”

“Sure. Just one question. Why haven’t you met the guy? Where is he?”

“In US. New York. He can’t keep coming to India all the time. So, he will come straight for the wedding.”

“And he doesn’t care about getting married to girl he doesn’t know at all?”

“Big, fat dowry – I guess that reduces the perceived risk a lot. And then he is supposedly this obedient, sanskari son, who trusts his parents blindly. Unlike me.”

“Your parents have met him?”

“No. But they trust the person who brought the proposal to them blindly. So, I am supposed to extend that blind trust as well.”

“Hmm…”

“Project?”

“Yeah. Sure! Let me see what have you done till now.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 5)

Posted Mish9 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“No grade drop in Econometrics. Did you hear that, Pari?” Catherine was excited.

“Really? That’s great!”

“Of course. Especially for you. Now Sudhanshu does not stand a chance.”

“I am not competing with anybody, Cathy.”

“No? Why are you doing the independent study with him then?”

“What does that have to do with Sudhanshu?”

“Not Sudhanshu. But no grade drop in Econometrics? Why would Subrato Sen do that?”

“How do I know? Oh God! You are crazy Cathy. No, I haven’t talk to him about the grade drop at all. The study was Dr. Gupta’s idea. You really are crazy.”

“That cute face, and soft voice can make anyone go crazy.”

“If independent study helps with that, you can do that too.”

“I won’t spoil my chances. He has high standards. Independent study will reveal my limitations too quickly,” Cathy grinned, “You enjoy it.”

“Shut up!”

—

Paridhi had taken up independent study in the next trimester as suggested by Dr. Gupta and Subrato and was in Subrato’s office to discuss the first steps of her project. Suddenly her mobile rang. She looked at the name on the screen and disconnected the call to return to the conversation. But the phone kept ringing again and again.

“Why don’t you take the call and we can discuss after that?” he noticed that the call was from her mother and suggested helpfully.

“No,” she switched off the phone and said decisively, “Let’s continue. You were saying we could find records in the state library. But we would need someone who known Arabic and Persian, right?”

“Why is you relationship with your mother so strained?”

“Excuse me?” Paridhi was shocked.

“Her calls always seem to trouble you.”

“I have no idea where that came from,” she replied with practiced toughness, “I am just trying to focus on work right now. Can we?”

“Right. Let’s continue,” he replied dryly and did not apologize with his presumption. He knew he was right.

But after their discussion ended, he decided to clear the air, “Listen. Paridhi. I didn’t mean to be intrusive earlier. It’s just…”

“And I didn’t mean to be rude. We all have to live with shortcomings. Sometimes our own, sometimes of the people around us. I don’t want to go around complaining.”

“I will keep that in mind for future.”

“Thanks.”

—

He kept up his promise and did not ask her about it again. He wasn’t taking any courses for her this trimester. So, they only met twice a week to discuss the progress on the project and the next steps to be taken.

She looked particularly distracted that day.

“Network was down in the hostel. I could not mail you some of the translated notes I had taken. Here they are in this USB drive.”

Subrato plugged the USB drive in, “It has a bunch of classical compositions. I doubt it has anything to do with economic policies of Nawabs of Oudh!”

“What… Oh… I brought the wrong… Let me check… I think I forgot… Do you have some time… I will go back and bring the right one…”

“Relax. Is it in your mailbox? You can access from here and download them.”

“It should be. I had sent it to the Maulana Wani for final confirmation.”

“Log in, then,” he turned his laptop over to her. Despite three attempts she could not log in.

“What happened?” he asked when he saw her looking frustrated.

“I can’t seem to remember my password.”

“You have it saved on your computer?”

“No. It’s… It makes no sense… I’m sorry. I am wasting your time. Can I come some other time?”

“Paridhi,” he said very softly, but surely, “You can come any time you want. And you can also share what is bugging you.”

She let out a loud sigh and looked at him with blank expressions.

“If you want,” he added hesitatingly wondering if he again crossed the line with her.

“We don’t always want the right things, do we?”

“I can’t imagine you wanting anything so sinister that you are so restless about it. But if it just about wanting to share your problems with friends – no. I don’t think there can be anything wrong with it.”

“I want to keep my mother happy. But…”

“But?”

“My mother and my grand-mother – they never wanted me to leave home. Staying in a hostel – away from the family. It was all just too modern for them. So, I had done my engineering also from a college in Allahabad only. But I fought with them to come here. Studying here – doing an MBA was my childhood dream. I didn’t know what would I do after this. But I just had to… And they had extracted a thousand promises from me that I won’t do anything that would bring shame on the family. And I haven’t… It’s making no sense to you, is it?” she suddenly asked.

“I am not an American. Why would it make no sense to me? Go ahead. Please!”

“Cathy could never understand. Nobody could. Cathy thinks I would be financially independent after MBA. Why should I care what they want? But how can I not care? She is my mother. She has brought me up.”

Subrato held back his thoughts on the issue and prodded her further, “What is the problem?”

“Everyday is a problem. They want me to get married at the earliest. Whatever time I had left with me after my summer internship, I have spent either getting lectures about how to behave myself to catch a good prospect or in meeting prospective in-laws and husbands. I begged them to wait for me to finish my MBA at least. But they are not willing to listen. They keep sending people to meet me here. And then pass on the feedback about everything from how my room was not clean, to how I was not dressed conservatively enough, how I came across as too modern etc. etc. Sometimes I manage to make my mother understand. But my grandmother starts blaming her for letting her daughter slip away and she loses it and takes out all her frustration on me. So, whenever she calls me I am told that I have slipped away from her hands, I don’t care about her or the family, what did she do wrong in bringing me up, why can’t I learn to be a bit more docile, why am I following the footsteps of my brother…” she suddenly stopped when she mentioned her brother.

“Your brother?”

“No. No brother. I don’t have a brother.”

“Paridhi?”

“He ran away. A few years ago. With a girl from lower cast. Untouchable actually. So now, finding a match for me is difficult if the prospects know about this black mark on the family. So, until I get married, I am the only child. I have no brother. And… nobody here knows either. In case people ask around… So…”

“Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me. But…”

“But?”

“Nothing.”

“Now, don’t leave me in a limbo. I have spoken too much anyway. At least I should know what you think about it.”

“Let it be. I don’t want to add to your worries.”

“Please. Speak up.”

“You are too young for marriage to be your first priority. What will happen to your career? Is that a concern in this entire process at all?”

“No. It’s not a concern at all. And… I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure some solution will turn up. But as a first step try to improve you mood,” Subrato smiled, “Do something to cheer yourself up.”

“Yeah. I guess so,” Paridhi forced a smile on herself, “I should leave now. I will send you the notes by e-mail and…”

“I have a better idea.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you take me to a place in the city where I can get good kebabs and hopefully rest of the dinner too?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.”

“Okay… Yeah… Sure…” Paridhi still looked unsure, but agreed.

“Let’s go then. My car got delivered yesterday. So, we don’t have to depend on the autos and taxis this time. Do you want to change before leaving?”

“No. I am good.”

“So, where do we get great kebabs? Preferably not on the roadside.”

Paridhi smiled, “There is a restaurant in Hazratganj. It comes close, but at a much higher price.”

“Don’t worry. Dinner is on me. Let’s go.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 4)

Posted Mish18 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

Subrato was agitated. It had been exactly one year since Stacey had walked out on him.

“You are just not stable enough, Subrato,” she had told him.

He was shocked. He had been preparing to propose to her. He had the entire wedding planned out in his head.

“What are you talking about? What is not stable about me?”

“You keep running off to weird places.”

“I like exploring things, Stacey. You are an artist. You can understand that.”

“Yeah. I am an artist and I need more stable man in my life to make up for that.”

“Stacey. It’s not like I don’t hold jobs or something. I just take up experimental projects. I can easily provide for you and the family we will raise together. And if needed…” Her audible sigh had made him realize that he was getting into a futile discussion. He asked her, “That isn’t the point, is it?”

She had nodded not meeting his eyes.

“Who is he?” he had tried hard to conceal his fury.

“Let it be, Subrato. It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t working out between us. I just… I had been meaning to tell you for so long.”

“What went wrong?” he had asked realizing even himself how hopeless those questions were.

“It wasn’t meant to be. Good bye, Subrato.”

He had stood rooted to his place as she left. Then he had gone to his bedroom, picked up the ring he had bought and flushed it down the toilet. He had done a real experimental thing with his career and life after that. He had decided to move back to India, at least for a while. But it had taken several months to work that out. As soon as his posting at IIAM had been confirmed, he had left US taking a sabbatical from his job there. His joining was still four months away, but he just had to get away from that place.

Subrato jumped out of his office chair. He needed fresh air. His class was about to start. But he had anticipated his inability to work that day. He called the TA (teaching assistant) of the course and handed him the question papers for a surprise test in the class. It was to be an half-an-hour test. The students were to be let go after that.

He walked out of the office towards the ground where he usually went for his jogging. His reverie was broken by the sound of her voice. She was sitting on the lone bench on that ground, her mobile pressed on her right ear, while her head was partially buried in her hand.

“Mummy. How many times have I told you to call me at the night, if you have to talk this nonsense. I have classes to attend for God’s sake. How am I supposed to concentrate?…. Mummy. Please. Let me complete this year, get a job… Of course, you don’t care. You want me to live the life you have lived… Just… I have to go the class…”

Subrato got out of her line of sight as she got up, but he could figure out that she was upset and crying. And she would get a test in the class!! On an impulse, he took a clandestine route he had discovered from the ground to the academic area to reach the class before her. He had hoped to stop the TA from distributing the test papers. But by the time he reached there, the papers had already been distributed. She reached the class shortly after him. She was late by ten minutes for the test. She sighed and shook her head when she realized that a surprise test was waiting for her. She had washed her face, but Subrato did not miss the swelling around her eyes. He felt bad for her. But she just picked up a test paper and went to her seat to start working on it. Subrato let the TA go telling him that he would supervise the test himself. He decided to let the test go on for forty minutes, so that she got enough time for completing it. But he was surprised when she got up from her seat to submit her answer sheet even before the originally planned time for the test was over.

“Can I leave now?” she asked him not sure if he intended to continue the class after the test.

“Yes,” he nodded. She probably wasn’t in the right mental state to take the test, he thought.

But he was in for a surprise when she left the classroom and he casually turned the pages of her answer-sheet. She had answered all the questions. And in his quick assessment, she had answered them correctly. It was all in a horrible handwriting. She must have been eager to get over with it. But it was correct nevertheless. He turned back to the first page of the answer sheet and ran his hand over her name. Paridhi Chauhan. He finally knew her name. A small, mostly indiscernible, smile formed on his lips!

—

Paridhi knocked on Subrato’s office door and opened it when she heard “Yes?” from inside. Another senior faculty member was in the office with him.

“I… just wanted to submit the assignment. TA was not in his office,” she explained her presence hesitantly.

“Come in,” he invited her in, “You might be interested in what Dr. Gupta and I are discussing here. Dr. Gupta – she is the one who came up with the idea that Imambada’s story is very Keynesian.”

“That’s great,” Dr. Gupta replied, “If you are interested Paridhi, you could check out the research we are planning and join it for your independent study project in the next trimester.”

“Sure. I will check it out, Sir,” she told him courteously.

“I will take your leave now,” Dr. Gupta turned to Subrato and left after parting pleasantries.

“What was it about?” she asked Subrato.

“You remember the Imambada story and its resemblance to Keynesian theories, right?”

“Yes?”

“So, I have been thinking about it. While I am in Lucknow, I would like to take up a research project where I get an advantage by being in this city and zeroed on the idea of studying economic policies of Nawabs of Oudh. We might get more interesting insights like the Imambada one.”

“That would be some real Indian Economics research. Very good idea.”

“So yeah – like Dr. Gupta suggested, if you are taking up independent study in the next trimester and are interested in the idea, let me know.”

“I will think about it.”

“And you did very well on the surprise test. Congratulations.”

“You have graded the papers?”

“Mostly. Unless someone else throws a surprise at me, you have scored the highest. What do you guys call it. A batch-max?”

“It’s just a test.”

Subrato smiled and shook his head at her attempt of dismissing her performance, despite having achieved it under distress. And it wasn’t just a test. She was the batch topper based on cumulative performance as of now. If her Economics aptitude was anything to go by, Subrato had no doubts that she will graduate at the top of her class.

“I had to submit the assignment…”

“The deadline is until the midnight. You are already done with it?”

“I have to go out of the campus for some work. So…”

“Lonely trip to Chowk and Imambada?”

She laughed, although it looked like a sad laugh to Subrato, “No. Thankfully or unfortunately not lonely.”

“Paridhi. Is everything all right?” he suddenly asked. His question came out of nowhere as far as she was concerned. She hesitated for a moment. Something else was odd apart from his question. The way he called her name. There was a slight accent, a combination of Bengali and American accent, which was difficult to miss. How come she had not noticed it earlier? Was it the first time he was calling her by her name?

“Yes… Why do you ask?” she brought herself out of her confused thoughts and replied hesitantly.

“Nothing… Just… Sometimes you look distressed,” he became conscious of his sudden intrusion and withdrew with a vague explanation of his question.

“We all do. We all are distressed some times.”

“Right. All the best with whatever is taking you to the city today.”

“Thanks. I need it. Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied though could not help wondering about why she said ‘I need it’.

—

To be Continued

Coming Around (Part 3)

Posted Mish12 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Hello there!” Paridhi was startled by Subrato’s voice at Imambada.

“What are you doing here?” she asked abruptly.

“Now this… is definitely not a private property.”

“Actually it is,” Paridhi smiled, “Not mine though. Waqf board’s! I am sorry. You startled me.”

“Just saw a familiar face around… By the way. This is my cousin – Sonali. She is a Lucknow veteran and thinks I can’t survive in the city on my own. And Sonali – she is the one who gave me a ride to the institute on my arrival in the city. So, you can thank her for ridding you of your guilt…”

“Stop exaggerating my concern Subrato. I didn’t get your name… Oh. I have to take this call. Excuse me,” she walked away as her mobile rang.

“So, you came here alone?” Subrato asked Paridhi.

“Yeah.”

“Wow! I would find it very awkward to do stuff alone.”

“I come here alone very often.”

“Why?”

“Just like that. How many people would be interested in coming to Imambada with me? That too again and again.”

“What about your best friend?”

“My best friend?”

“Catherine, I think!”

“How do you know she is my best friend.”

“Well – the two of you are spotted together quite often in the campus.”

Paridhi laughed, “Yes. But outside the campus, she could be spotted more often with her boyfriend. That’s who she is with right now. So, I am left to my own devices and I am not complaining. Anyway, I was planning to leave now…”

“Sonali will drop me. We could give you a ride…”

“Oh no! Not needed. You should continue with your plan…”

“There is no plan… Here she is… Sonali…”

“Subrato,” Sonali looked hurried when she came back, “Emergency at work. Some client is going berserk. I need to go immediately. How do I drop you…”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I know enough about the city to find my way back.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. You also have to go back, right?” Subrato turned to Paridhi.

“Yes. But I will be taking an auto…”

“Can we share it?”

“Sure. You don’t have to worry Ma’am.”

“Thank you so much. Subrato. I will catch up with you later. I am so sorry…”

“Don’t bother. Handle your work. See you later. Bye.”

—

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?” Subrato asked Paridhi casually on their auto-ride back to the campus.

“Huh?”

“Sorry. That sounded intrusive. I was just continuing our earlier conversation.”

“How is that related to our earlier conversation?”

“You mentioned that your friend was with her boyfriend and you are left to your own devices. So, obviously the next question that came to my mind was this.”

“Hmm… Okay. Since you explain the origin of your question so logically, let me answer it. No. I don’t have a boyfriend. And I am unlikely to ever have one.”

Subrato laughed, “The second part of the answer is dishonest. I’m already surprised that you don’t have one and you are talking so strongly about not having one in future too.”

“Why are you surprised? You think girls with verbal diarrhea must have a boyfriend?”

That made him laugh again, “Verbal diarrhea?? You are saying that about yourself? You are very aware of your own self.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway. To answer your question, if my college days experience are anything to go by, you are too intelligent and attractive to be left alone by boys.”

“Thanks for the compliment. But no. I can’t have a boyfriend.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Can’t afford those complications. My family is too conservative for that.”

“I see,” her honest confession about her situation suddenly made it awkward for Subrato.

“Anyway. Why are we talking about these things? What does your cousin do?” she changed the topic.

“She is a designer. For clothes and accessories. Specializes in bridal attire. Her customers keep going berserk all the time.”

“I can imagine! I have seen my cousins during the days leading to their wedding. They go crazy about every little thing. I don’t understand the madness.”

“Well. People want their special day to be perfect.”

“How does it matter? Especially if the rest of the life is going to be a compromise, something much less than perfect.”

“You sound very pessimistic about marriages?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Why are we going in the direction of discussing relationships and marriages again and again?”

“Your bad luck, I guess,” Subrato grinned, “Would you prefer discussing Econometrics?”

“I think so.”

“How are you finding the classes?”

“Good.”

“I was looking for some honest, critical feedback.”

“In that case, well… it’s too basic sometimes. But that’s the fate of most of the classes in any course. You have to take the entire class together. That’s your job.”

“Wow! You have a gift for this. You suddenly made my job sound very depressing.”

“I am sorry. That’s not what I meant,” Paridhi replied sounding sad.

“I was just joking!”

“It wasn’t a joke. I do tend to see too much bleakness in the world.”

“And the verbal diarrhea is a way to not let that show?”

“Are you an Economist or a Psychologist?”

“You don’t need to be either to have some common sense.”

“Well… ” her phone rang and she picked it up, “What… No Mummy… Not now… Let me at least reach the hostel room… I am with friends… No… Just stop… Okay? Stop it. I will call back! Bye.” It looked like she had disconnected the call against the wishes of her mother. She did not look at Subrato after the call and kept staring outside the auto. Subrato looked at her curiously, but decided not to interfere further.

“Do you know the story of Imambada?” she spoke suddenly with a perky voice that was characteristic of her usual verbal-diarrhea-self.

He knew the story. The tour guide at Imambada had narrated it to him just a while back when he was there with Sonali. But he still said no. She needed to talk to deal with whatever was bothering her. He decided to indulge her.

She explained the story to him in detail, adding a few exaggerations on her own from what the guide had told him. He couldn’t help noticing the exaggerations, though he did not point them out to her. She went on about how Nawab Asaf-Ud-Daula commissioned the construction of the Imambada in a time of famine to provide employment to people. The common people built the Imambada during the day time. The noblemen and elites broke it down at night as they could not do anything else. The see-saw continued until the famine was over.

“It is rather Keynesian, don’t you think so? And much before Keynes,” she added at the end.

“It indeed is,” Subrato was impressed by her economics related observation. It had  precisely been his thought too, when he had heard the story. This intervention was very similar to the one done in the US to overcome the great depression. And the economist behind the theory that guided the intervention was the legendary John M. Keynes. Imambada had happened much before that!

“Have you been to the Residency?”

“Not yet.”

“You can see the holes made by canons during the seize of 1857.”

“I see…”

“Though their size is rather small. I was underwhelmed when I saw them for the first time. I had imagined some huge holes in the walls.”

Subrato chuckled at that, “What else should I know about Lucknow?”

“Kebabs to eat, taanga to ride, chikan to wear, super-formal nawaabi language to speak and mujra to watch. I can’t help you with the last one though. Don’t know where can you find that.”

Subrato laughed out loud at that, “You are funny. And amazing. I think I can do without mujra. Where do you get good Kebabs?”

“Roadside.”

“Ah!”

“That won’t work for you, would it? You probably order bottled water in the restaurants.”

Subrato sighed, “As a matter of fact, I do. Is that too bad?”

“Not for me. But for you. There are things you can’t enjoy.”

“Right.”

“Did that sound offensive? I didn’t mean to…”

“Nope. That didn’t sound offensive at all. Only practical.”

“Great. We have reached. You can do the rest of your research on Lucknow on Wikipedia now,” she smiled.

“Or you can take me along on one of your lonely trips to the city and guide me.”

“I enjoy my lonely trips.”

“Did I disturb you today, then?”

“No. It’s good to break the monotony once in a while.”

“Hmm…”

“My hostel is here. I will pay…”

“This ride is on me. Good night.”

“Good night.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 2)

Posted Mish11 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Pari. Why aren’t you in the class?” Catherine sent her an SMS the next morning. Prof. Subrato Sen was already in the class and Paridhi had not reached there yet.

“Don’t feel like. Will catch you in the Marketing Strategy class,” she replied back. She was sitting in her room obsessively finding out everything she could about Subrato Sen on Internet.

A graduate of ISI Kolkata, he had done his Ph. D. from London School of Economics and had worked for over five years at World Bank and IMF before coming back to India and joining IIAM. She remembered reading some of his articles in a major financial newspapers and also a paper on RBI’s monetary policy.

And she had been advising him on how to cope with first year of MBA! But why the hell did he not tell her?

—

“Good morning!” Paridhi was startled by the greeting and the voice.

“What the… What are you doing here?” she spoke without thinking, when she saw Subrato there. He was in his shorts, t-shirts and jogging shoes, sweating profusely from the exercise. One of the earphone buds was in his left ear, while the other was hanging down. Faint sound of music escaped from it indicating that he had just taken it out, possibly after noticing her.

“Umm… Last time I checked this place was the property of the institute and a proper response to a ‘good morning’ greeting is a ‘good morning’, a ‘hello’, or a ‘hi’…”

Paridhi gulped, obviously embarrassed at her abrupt reaction, and also at having to face him after the fiasco of their first meeting. But she tried to put up a brave face and replied, “Good morning. Actually nobody comes here…”

“So, you have encroached the space?”

“You are making no sense at all!” she frowned.

“I was joking, of course. How are you?”

Why the hell was he indulging in small talk with her. Paridhi was confused. She responded with a question instead, “Why did you lie to me that day?”

“When did I lie to you?”

“The day we first met, when you came to join…”

“Ah! When did I tell you that I was a first year student?”

Paridhi frowned in confusion. “You didn’t?” she mumbled.

“No.”

“But you didn’t tell me that you were a prof either?”

“Would you have believed me?”

She shook her head reluctantly.

“And has it occurred to you that you don’t let other people speak?”

“I am sorry,” she pouted, but apologized. “Sir…” she added hastily after a pause.

“Subrato is fine.”

‘Of course, it is not,’ she thought to herself, but nodded before him.

“And I see that you are up fairly early. So, getting up in time can’t be your problem. Why don’t you come to the classes then?”

“You noticed that?”

He laughed out loud, “Don’t you think it will be a little hard for me not to notice that.”

“I had hoped it wasn’t,” she mumbled.

“Anyway. If our first encounter was the reason you stopped coming to the class, you can get over it now.”

“I have missed too many classes. I will get a grade-drop anyway,” the reply came automatically. She noticed his raised eyebrows and added hastily, “Of course. One should come to the classes to learn and all…”

Subrato shook his head with a grin on his face. She was unbelievably voluble and clumsy about the things she said. But there was something cute about it. “Have a good day,” he wished her and restarted his jogging. Paridhi walked back to her hostel wordlessly. The entire exchange was very awkward and strange for her. But the most discomforting part was that somebody had invaded her secret little space. Nobody ever came to that part of the campus. Although technically the area was owned by the institute, but it was some distance away from most of the buildings. This land was acquired by the institute with an eye on the future, when the number of students would increase and more construction might be needed. Right now, it was just a grassland. How that hell did he discover it so quickly, she wondered. Most people on the campus were not even aware of its existence, much less it being the institute’s property.

‘Whatever!’ she calmed herself down. This wasn’t her usual hour anyway. She has had a night-out and that’s how she was there that early in the morning. He would come only for jogging. So, she could still have the place to herself at other times, she concluded happily.

She decided to start attending his classes.

—

“So, these two variables are correlated. And very strongly so. What obvious problem do you see in concluding any causality from this?”

A few hands went up in the class, including Paridhi’s. The other faces had become familiar to Subrato by now. They were the ones who answered most often in the class. But this girl had missed so many of the classes. He did not expect her to know the answer. So, he decided to test her and indicated towards her.

“We have time series data in both variables. It is likely that both of them are increasing with time. This is likely a spurious correlation.”

“How do you determine definitely whether or not they are really correlated?”

“We take the differential and see the correlation in that data.”

“Excellent!” Subrato was genuinely impressed.

“Why are you attending the classes after you have already missed enough for a grade-drop,” Catherine was curious after the class.

“He teaches well.”

“How did you know? You never attended a class.”

“Some of his recorded talks are available on you tube.”

“Ah! So, why didn’t you come earlier?”

“I just couldn’t get up early enough for an 8 ‘o class.”

“Hmm.” Catherine looked like she did not believe her, but did not say anything other than looking at her questioningly. Paridhi ignored that.

“By the way,” Catherine changed the topic and spoke excitedly, “We have found out all about him.”

“About whom?”

“Subrato Sen, yaar. Who else?”

“I see. What did you find?” Paridhi asked, though she herself had done enough research on him to know almost everything that was there to know.

“He is single!”

That was something she hadn’t thought about finding out. But it wasn’t surprising. Nothing she found about him on Internet seemed to indicate that he was married. And anyway! How did it matter?

“Good for you,” she replied.

“And you Ms. Prudent act all detached. Don’t tell me you don’t have a little crush on him.”

“Really? If that were the case, why wouldn’t I attend his classes?”

“If you ask me, it is the case. That’s why you have started attending his classes even after missing enough for a grade-drop.”

“You are crazy Cathy.”

“Am I? So be it.”

“Right. Let’s quickly grab a puff or something to eat before the next class. I missed my breakfast.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 1)

Posted Mish14 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“I will get an auto for IIAM from the station, right? … Yeah, yeah… Don’t worry… I have to stay here now… I, of course, have to find my way around…” Subrato assured his cousin on phone.

“Going to join IIAM?” Paridhi asked her co-passenger on the train. The train was about to reach Lucknow from Delhi. She had boarded it in Allahabad. She was coming back after summer vacation to start her second year of MBA programme at Indian Institute of Administration and Management.

“Yes,” Subrato nodded with a smile.

“PGP1?” she asked. “I mean first year?” she added when she felt that he didn’t understand what she meant as she had used a term from campus-specific vocabulary.

“No…”

“All right,” Paridhi interrupted him saucily, “Don’t try to pass yourself off as a senior. I know everyone in my batch.”

“I am not doing anything of that sort,” Subrato replied patiently. But she interrupted before he could explain.

“Don’t tell me you are joining Ph. D.?” she raised her eyebrows. He looked too young for that.

“I am not. In fact…”

She interrupted with a loud laughter this time, “Then what? You are a Prof there or something?”

Instead of replying Subrato also joined her in the laughter convincing her that he was a first year student trying to pass off as a senior to avoid ragging.

“Were you lying to avoid ragging?”

“Uh… Umm… Yeah… I tried…”

“You would do well to learn, then, that you can’t escape me,” she replied with attitude, “Remember my face.”

“I will,” Subrato nodded in compliance.

“You shouldn’t worry about ragging though. Nobody in MBA programme has time for all that really. If anything happens at all, it would really be joke of a ragging. Especially after engineering college… Are you an engineer though?”

“I am not. I am an Economist.”

She laughed again, “No offense. But which BA programme in this country makes anyone an Economist?”

“None taken. No BA programme does.”

“But apart from engineering and Mathematics, Economics is one of the best subjects to study before MBA. You won’t have problem in quant subjects.”

“That’s… really good to know…”

“Do you have work experience?”

“Yeah…”

“That makes things tough you know… You lose the touch with student life. Classes, studies, mugging up for exams and all that… People with work experience may have better understanding of subjects like HR. But they find difficult to adjust to the study pressure.”

“I will keep that in mind. You are very helpful.”

“That I am. So, I will give you a ride to the institute. Even though you tried to lie to me. I have called a taxi. The way auto-wallahs try to loot you this early in the morning, booking a taxi is actually cheaper.”

“That’d be very helpful.”

Subrato listened to Paridhi’s chatter and endless advises about how to settle and do well at the institute during the rest of their train journey and the ride to the institute.

“This is my hostel. Can you see that building? That’s the administrative building. You should ask for the office of Dean of Student Affairs. You need to report there. Do you want me to take you there?”

“No. Don’t trouble yourself anymore. I will find the place. Thanks a lot.”

“You are welcome. And just because I gave you a ride, don’t think you can escape ragging.”

“I won’t dare!”

“Good. The taxi will drop you there. It’s pre-paid. No need to pay. Bye!”

“Bye! Have a good day. And thanks a lot for the ride.”

Subrato got down from the taxi in front of the administrative building and asked someone passing by, “Excuse me. Where is the office of Dean of Faculty Affairs?”

—

The next day was the first day of classes for the new trimester. Paridhi was walking towards the academic area with a group of her friends.

“I have decided that in this trimester my strategy will be to not miss a single class until I have my 85% compulsory attendance. Then towards the end, I will chill out completely.” she informed everyone decisively.

“You are going to attend each and every class till then?” her friend was incredulous.

“Of course.”

“You missing 85% attendance is the only chance of anyone else getting better grade than you, because you will have a grade drop. If that isn’t happening, Sudhanshu can forget about his rivalry with you.”

Paridhi Chauhan was the batch topper after first year and Sudhanshu Mishra was her closest competitor.

“Who cares about grades, yaar? It’s just fun to game the system.”

One of the guys in the group sighed as he replied, “Those who get the grades easily don’t care.”

“Whatever!” Paridhi dismissed his point and started talking about something else.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” she whispered to Catherine as they made to their seats, “I met this fresher on the train yesterday…” Catherine was her best friend in the college.

“You were going around the train scouting for the freshers?”

“Shut up, Cathy. His seat was next to mine. This guy is really cute-looking. But he was trying to act over-smart. He tried to pass himself off as a second year student…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And…”

Suddenly everyone in the class fell silent, a sign of the professor entering. She looked up to see who the new Economics professor was. Her eyes widened in surprise. She stared at him agape as he introduced himself.

“Hi. My name is Subrato Sen. I have joined the Economics department just now. And I will be taking your advanced Econometrics class. That you can, of course, guess,” he joked, “Else I won’t be standing before you in this classroom at this ungodly hour. Disturbing your as well as my own sleep,” It drew a laughter from everyone except Paridhi.

Subrato scanned the faces of people sitting in the class and Paridhi cringed as she felt his eyes linger at her for a couple of seconds. She even discerned a scorning smile on his face for a split second.

“What has happened to you?” Catherine asked her after the class, “You didn’t speak a single word in the class.”

“Umm… Nothing. I just didn’t feel like. There wasn’t anything interesting going on,” she cooked up an alibi.

“He asked so many questions, which nobody knew the answer to. I am sure you did… By the way, doesn’t the new Prof look too young to be a Prof?”

“I think so…” Of course, she did!

“And very, very cute. I hope he is unmarried. Time for the next class. Let’s go…”

—

To be continued

Animalistic Urge (Part 3)

Posted MishLeave a commentPosted in Fan Fiction, Hinglish, Maneet (GHSP)

Next evening at around 4 ‘o clock, Maan sent Geet a message, “Tumhare liye 15 minute mein gaadi bhej raha hoon.”

She replied back, “Kahan ja rahe hain hum? Taiyaar hone ka to time dijiye.”

“Uski zaroorat nahin hai. Jo ghar mein pahan rakha hai wahi pahan kar aa jao.”

Geet was confused but happy that for once she does not have to worry about what to wear while going out with him. Driver left her at one of the poshest hotels in the city. Maan was there to receive her when she got down. She looked at him questioningly, but he just smiled and reassured her with his typical blink. Then he took her hands and walked to the reception. They had a reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Khurana. Receptionist gave him room keys in duplicate. Maan handed one of the keys to Geet and asked her to go to the room. He would join her in sometime.

Geet entered the suite that was reserved for them. The room she entered into had an entire beauty parlour set up. She looked around and saw a beautiful, pink bridal lehanga in the wardrobe. She wasn’t sure what to do. Just then she heard the doorbell and opened it to find some uniformed girls.

“Ma’m – hum log hotel ke salon se hain. Mr. Khurana ne aapko taiyaar hone mein help karne ke liye hamein bheja hai.”

“Oh! Theek hai. Aaiye.”

It took them close to three hours to do the entire bridal make-up for After she was ready, the girls took her to the other room of the suite, which was connected by a door to this one. Geet got another surprise when she found the entire room decorated with flowers just like their room on their wedding night was.

With her own make-up and dress, the room, and now the anticipation, she felt like she was reliving her wedding night all over again. And then it occured to her. That is what he wanted. He wanted her to live their wedding night fully, which both of them had spent anxiously. A smiled spread on her lips. So, she should play along as well. She had been roaming around in the room feeling confused till now. But now she climbed on the bed and sat there, waiting for her man – for their suhaag raat. Just like she had done on the night of their wedding.

Maan had entered from the other room and had already reached the connecting door when Geet was climbing on the bed. He was stunned by how she looked. Pink really suited her very well. He patted himself mentally for making the right choice. He had the lehanga stitched a few days back, precisely for the day that was finally here. He could keep it a surprise from her, because he had her measurements from the wedding dresses.

Geet did not realize that he was watching her, as she sat down on the bed, settled her lehnaga and dupatta properly, put her arms around her legs folded at the knees and waited. Waited for him to come and consume her, make her his own!

He smiled seeing her prepare. Somehow watching her settling down on the bed felt a very intimate sight to him. Something that the groom was not normally supposed to see. But he did. With his Geet, nothing was out of bounds. She did not need to pretend in front of him. He could and would know everything about her. He felt a rush of blood in his body at this thought. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. They had the entire night in front of them. And it was not to be just about him, but about her and him, about them.

When Geet saw him standing at the door. She became anxious and fidgeted despite her best attempts to remain calm. Maan noticed this. He moved towards her slowly and sat beside her on the bed.

She shivered when he placed his hand on her shoulder, surprising even herself. His touch was not so new to her now. She was used to his closeness, his touch, his breathings and yet – probably there was something in this wedding night arrangement that made her feel shy like a traditional new bride expecting to meet her husband for the first time. For some reason she also felt very nervous. It showed on her face and it did not escape Maan’s notice.

He asked in a very concerned, but also very seductive voice, “Dar lag raha hai Geet?”

She felt awkward, but did not lie. Just nodded in positive.

He smiled patronizingly, “Mujhse dar lag raha hai?”

She was not looking at him and did not see him smiling. She thought she might have offended him. So, she hastened to clarify, “Nahin… aapse nahin… woh…” She looked up at him and her voice drowned.

“Agar lag raha hai, to achchha hi hai. Lagna bhi chahiye. Aaj tak jitni shararatein tumne ki hain, un sab ka badla main lene waala hoon tumse aaj raat. Samjhi tum?” He had taken the dupatta off her head.

His words were threatening and his voice was seductively demanding. Geet’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she seriously wondered if she will survive his passion and demands for the night. But then she took a deep breath and relaxed. Why was she getting scared? This was Maan, her Maan. He always keeps her well-being before his own. She can safely let herself be drowned in his desires and passion. He will take care of everything. She closed her eyes and let this feeling of complete submission sink into her. It calmed her nerves and she was now looking forward to their night togehter with expectations.

She felt, absorbed and internalized his every touch as he took off her maang-teeka, followed by the necklaces. He placed a kiss on her forehead and rubbed his hand along her neck. Even those simple touches sent pleasant sensations through her body. She sighed. Her eyes were still closed. Maan did not like it. He wanted to be able to see in her eyes the sweet torture he would inflict on her through out the night. He wanted to be able to see her nervousness, shyness, excitement and pleasure. And where could he see all of these better than her eyes.

“Aankhein kholo Geet. Aaj ki raat wahi hoga jo main chahunga. Aur agar tumne aankhein band ki to mujhse bura koi nahin hoga.”

She opened her eyes. Maan sighed looking at them. What was there in those innocent eyes that had been driving him crazy since the first time he saw her? He wondered whether for the sake of his own sanity, he should let her close her eyes. But he pulled himself together. The temptation to see her entire being in her eyes was too strong, too intoxicating to be foregone.

He then restarted his task of de-accesorizing her. He took off her earrings one by one and licked and bit her bare earlobes. Geet’s eyes closed, but she remembered what he had told her and opened them before he moved back and looked at them. He saw her nervousness and excitement in her eyes and a very slight smiled crossed his lips.

He turned towards her feet and took off her payal. He massaged the muscles around her ankles. It relaxed and aroused her at the same time. Once again she had to put in conscious effort to keep her eyes open. Left to themselves, the would close immediately. Maan saw her struggle and smirked when she was not looking at him. Next he removed her bangles and then rings from her fingers. As he bared her hands, he took them between his own and pressed them in a way that conveyed his assurance, protection, desire, passion and demands at the same time. Geet was getting overwhelmed.

His hands went to her shoulders to free her dupatta form the pins which were holding it to her blouse. Geet gasped when he slipped his fingers inside her blouse at her shoulder. He took the pin out from both sides of her blouse deftly and removed the dupatta. He threw it on the floor. There was no way she could have reached it. She kept herself from closing her eyes, but could not look at him either. Her eyes were downcast. He had seen her in semi-dressed state earlier too, but this moment was different. She felt very vulnerable and her folded legs instinctively moved towards her upper body in an attempt to cover her. But he stopped her by touching her knees and instead of allowing her to curl up, he pushed her to lie down on the bed.

He planted a kiss on her exposed belly and said, “Baby! Aapke Papa aapki Mamma ko thoda pareshaan karne waale hain aaj. Thoda nahin, kaafi saara. Lekin aapko ghabrane ki koi zaroorat nahin hai. Mamma ko bhi achchha hi lagega. Waise bhi ye unki shararaton ki hi punishment hai. Aap aaram se so jaiye.”

Then he looked at Geet with eyes that seemed to tell her that he would eat her up there and then. She gathered her crumbling will power together and asked him in a broken and weak voice, “Aap.. baar baar… mujhe… darane ki… koshish kyon kar…”

He bent down and kissed her right arms several times before replying, “Main tumhein darane ki koshish nahin kar raha hoon Geet. Bas wahi kah raha hoon jo main karne waala hoon.”

She swallowed hard. Maan made her lie on her stomach and started kissing her on the spine starting from the small of her back. She fought to keep herself calm, but he just seemed to know how to drive her crazy. As he reached close to her blouse, she untied the multiple doris that were holding it in place, exposing her upper back too for him to devour. He continued the assault with his lips, tongue and teeth on her nape, sides of the neck and the shoulders.

She completely lost herself and called out his name, “Maan!”

Maan withdrew from her for a moment to ensure that she wasn’t uncomfortable. She took this chance to turn around. Once she was on her back, she reached out for his shoulders and pulled him close to herself, hugging him tight. He hugged back and smiled. He had succeeded in his designs on her. He had driven her to the edge and she was now going to be helpless in his arms. Consumed as much by desire as he himself was. It was going to be fun now, he told himself.

“Itni aasaani se nahin Geet,” He told her in a strangely sweet, menacing way, “Abhi tumhein aur tadapna hai, mujhe itne dinon tak tadpane ke liye.”

He continued to torture her, touching and kissing her all over, but not giving in to his own or her desires of consummation. He literally took her to the limits. He, himself, was getting to the limits in the process, but the fun was worth it. It was after an hour, that he showed some chances of relenting, when he finally kissed her on the lips. His kiss was so desperate and demanding that it gave away how much on the brink of giving in he himself was. After he broke the kiss, he whispered in her ears, “Ye kiss yaad rakhna Geet. Zindagi bhar. Achchha lagega.”

After that even if he wanted to torture her more, his own restraint gave way as they united with each other in a passionate consummation.

After a while, when they were lying in each other’s arms and their pantings had subsided a bit, she spoke, “Maan!”

“Kya hua Geet?”

“Ek baat poochhon?”

He turned towards her and said smilingly, “Agar mana karoonga to nahin poochhogi?”

“Abhi bhi chidhana zaroori hai?”

“Tumhein chidhana aur tumse jhagda karna bhi utna hi achchha lagta hai Geet jitna ki… tumse pyaar karna.”

He ended his sentence in such a suggestive tone that she blushed heavily and could not pretend to be irritated.

“Bolo Geet. Kya poochhna tha?”

“Aapne itna sab kyon plan kiya?”

“Kyonki Geet. Hamara ek sapna adhoora rah gaya tha, haalaton ki wajah se. Main use poora karna chahta tha.”

Geet smiled lovingly and snuggled up closer to him in almost a hug. He was obsessed about each of her dreams, wasn’t he?

They slept so peacefully that night as they had not done in ages.

– The End –

 

Animalistic Urge (Part 2)

Posted Mish3 CommentsPosted in Fan Fiction, Hinglish, Maneet (GHSP)

His instinctive reaction was to shake her up and ask her right away – Why! Why did she do that… But he had not completely lost his mind. Just a while back, in his aggression, he had hurt her. He shouldn’t be repeating that mistake. He couldn’t understand why it happened, but he realized that in his anger he became her assaulter, from her protector. Right now, he had to protect her from himself.

He tried his best to remain calm as he told her, “Kamre mein jao Geet. Tumhein aaraam ki zaroorat hai.”

Geet was surprised and scared. Why was he so calm? He should have bursted out with anger and questions for her. She suddenly remembered when he had become unexpectedly calm after the fiasco at his farmhouse party. He had planned to leave her forever then. What was he planning now? She was scared to death.

“Maan. Please meri baat suniye…”

Maan spoke angrily this time, although he consciously tried not to shout, “Tumne suna nahin maine kya kaha? Jao yahan se. Kamre mein jao.”

There was no scope for disobeying him. She would fuel his anger further if she did not listen to him. She moved backwards, scared to death, but unable to do anything.

He saw her receding figure and turned away. To get control over his thoughts and to release his anger, he started working out again.

Geet did not go back to her room. She hid behind a pillar, where he would not notice her and kept looking at him. She was feeling helpless and started crying. She pressed her mouth with her hands so that she did not make any noise. While she could not bring herself to leave him alone in this state, she could not afford to anger him further by making her presence felt either. She sank down on her knees and finally felt so exhausted and hopeless that she rested her back against the pillar and closed her eyes.

She stayed like that for around fifteen minutes, after which she felt someone’s presence, his presence around her. She opened her eyes and stood up startled. He was there watching her.

She got too scared thinking he would be angry that she did not listen to him, “Main… Maan… I am sorry. Main jati hoon.”

She turned to leave and got pulled back by his familiar, firm hands.

His voice reflected only pain when he asked, “Kyon Geet? Aisa kyon kiya tumne? Kyon madad maangne gayi usse? Us insaan se jiski shakal tak dekhna tumhein manzoor nahin hai!”

One of his hands was around her waist, and with the other he supported her at the upper back.

“Aapke blood group ka khoon kahin nahin mil raha tha Maan. Humne Delhi aur Chandigarh mein bhi pata karwaya tha. Meri saari ummeed khatm ho gayi thi Maan. Mere paas aur koi chaara nahin tha. Mujhe pata hai ki isse aapko bahut bura laga hai, bahut gussa aa raha hai, lekin mere liye aapki zindagi se badh kar kuchh nahin tha Maan. Dev se main jitni bhi nafrat karti hoon, usse bahut zyada aapse pyaar karti hoon. Maan ke bina Geet ka koi astitva nahin hai. Main apni nafrat ke liye aapki zindagi se kaise khel sakti thi?” she finally poured her heart out. She was still scared of his reaction, but simply by coming out clean to him, a huge burden had been lifted off her heart.

He pulled her in a hug. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that no one can love the way she loved him. He wanted to tell her that how lucky he was to have her. He wanted to tell her that he was really sorry that due to him she had to feel indebted to the person she hated the most. But he had tears in his eyes and he would have choked on his words, if he had tried to voice these feelings. Somewhere he was sure that his Mishti understood the love, respect and gratitude he felt towards her. Not just for this sacrifice of her, but for every moment of happiness and love that she had brought in his life. He hoped that she was listening to his heartbeats right then and was able to hear all that was there in his heart.

And then a feeling of remorse took over. For how he had treated her earlier in the day. How insulted and humiliated she must have felt. Why did he do things in his anger that were a black mark on the sanctity of their relationship?

He broke the hug, cupped her face in his hands and said, “Geet. Mujhe maaf kar do. Maine kamre mein tumhare saath jaise behave kiya, mujhe nahin karna chahiye tha.”

“Maan. Aap aisa kah ke pyaar ke yaadgaar palon ko bura kyon bana rahe hain.” She blushed and lowered her eyes as she continued, “Pahli kiss to zindagi bhar yaad rakhne ki cheez hoti hai na?”

“Kis mitti ki bani ho Geet? Meri galtiyon mein bhi pyaar dekhti ho.”

“Auron ka nahin pata mujhe, par main to jaanti hoon ki us gusse mein pyaar ke alawa kuchh nahin tha. Sirf mere liye pyaar, sirf meri chinta,” she smiled looking into his eyes and then added to lighten the mood, “Haan! Bas agar aap mere haath aur kandhe na todein apni ye badi si majboot body ka fayda utha kar, to achchha rahega.”

Maan finally smiled. He was so overwhelmed that he did not know what should he do express himself. She was so much better at it than him. With immense love, he went ahead and picked her up in his arms.

“Maan – main bilkul theek hoon. Aapko mujhe utha kar le jaane ki zaroorat nahin hai.”

“Tumhein zaroorat nahin hogi Geet. Mujhe hai – tumhein apne paas rakhne ki, tumhein chhone ki!” He looked at her smiling and blushing face and fervently wished that he could find ways of expressing how much he needed to love her!

—

He settled her on the bed and lovingly caressed her forehead and cheek.

“Geet. Ab tum so jao. Raat kaafi ho chuki hai. Aur tumhein aaraam ki zaroorat bhi hai. ”

“Aur aap?”

“Main doosre kamre ke bathroom mein ja kar shower le leta hoon, takin tumhari neend kharaab na ho.”

“Nahin! Mujhe abhi nahin sona hai. Aap mere paas baithiye.”

“Par Geet…”

“Main kuchh nahin sun rahi. Jab se Shimla se nikle hain, jaise pareshaaniyon ki baadh aa gai hai. Mujhe thodi der shaanti se aapke saath baithna hai.”

Maan smiled, “Theek hai begam sahiba. Aapka huqm sar-aankhon par!”

He settled himself beside her and started stroking and caressing her forehead.

“Ab main yahan hoon to tum kuchh bol nahin rahi ho.”

“Ye lo. Har waqt bolna zaroori hai kya. Khud hi to aap shikayat karte rahte ho ki kitna bak bak karti hoon main.”

“Tum bak bak karti ho to main shikayat karne ke liye to munh kholta hoon, warna Geet – mujhe to dhang se baat karna bhi nahin aata. Apne dil ki baat batana to bilkul nahin aata.”

“To kya hua main hoon na hum dono ke liye bolne ke liye.”

Both of them smiled.

Maan noticed some papers on the side table.

“Woh kya hain Geet?”

Geet was startled, “Woh… Kuchh nahin…”

“Kuchh kaise nahin…” Before Geet could do anything Maan reached out for the papers and started looking at them, “Test results? Woh to kal milne waale the.”

“Haan – par doctor ka phone aaya tha ki taiyaar ho gaye hain to main aaj hi le aayi.”

“Phone to hamesha mere mobile par aata hai.”

“Aap ka mobile engaged tha to unhone ghar ke landline par kiya tha.”

“Aur tumne mujhe abhi tak bataya kyon nahin.”

“Woh… main batane hi waali thi…”

As Maan went through the reports, his eyes glittered with happiness and naughtiness. Geet was biting her lips in shyness and nervousness.

“To ye baat hai, Geet! Tum mujhse bachna chahti thi?” The reports indicated that Geet as well as the baby was fine and there was no danger to either of them now.

“Nahin… woh.. Main… Batane hi waali thi…”

Maan put the papers away, turned to her, pulled her closer and asked in his heavy voice, “Kya batane waali thi Geet?”

“Woh.. Reports ke baare mein…”

“Kyon? Kya badal gaya reports ke aane se?” he paused to see her reaction. Her shyness made him tease her even more, “Bolo Geet. Ab saari bak-bak karne ki taqat kahan chali gayi?”

He moved forward to kiss her. She closed her eyes, but he backed off at the last moment.

She opened her eyes and looked at him in cofusion.

“Nahin Geet. Aise nahin. Hamari suhaag raat yaadgaar honi chahiye. Tum aaj aaraam kar lo.” He paused and added with a mischievous smile, “Zaroorat padegi.”

With this, he made her lie on the bed, ran his hand from her forehead over her eyes to make her close them and kissed on her eyes.

He went out to another bathroom to take his shower and looked at the watch. He still had time to make calls and arrange things for tomorrow.

—

To be continued

Animalistic Urge (Part 1)

Posted MishLeave a commentPosted in Fan Fiction, Hinglish, Maneet (GHSP)

Note on the OS

This is a different look at how Maan finds out and reacts to the fact that Dev donated blood to save his life.

—

Geet entered the room to find Maan pacing up and down in the room. His anger was scaring her to death. But it was not clear to her what was the best way out. Maan wanted the truth. She wanted to tell him the truth. But she was scared of his reaction. He might get even more angry and frustrated if he got to know the truth of blood donation. What if he took it out on Dev? As much as she hated Dev, she was heavily indebted to him for saving Maan’s life. If Dadi Ma wanted him to stay in Khurana Mansion until he recovers, she should ensure that. That much she owed to him.

But all this at the cost of giving pain to Maan. Her heart cried out. What was she to do? She knew his anger. And it pained her when she was unable to calm him down.

He noticed her and came to her immediately. Holding her at the shoulder, he pinned her to the wall near the door. His eyes were fiery with anger and aggression. He was hurting her, but she could not complain.

“Kya baat hui hai tumhari us insaan se jo tum itni badal gayi ho? Aakhir kiya kya hai usne?”

His anger had scared her so much that even if she wanted to, she was unable to say anything to him in reply. She was literally shaking from fear. She looked down and silently cried.

“Kyon meri kissi baat ka jawaab nahin hai tumhare paas Geet? Kyon nazarein nahin mila pa rahi ho mujhse? Aisa kya ho gaya hai?”

Still no reply.

His frustration knew no bounds and he became even more aggressive.

“Meri taraf dekho Geet,” he ordered, not requested, in a rising voice. She was forced to look at him. If she was shaking in fear, his entire body was shaking with anger.

A look into her eyes and his possessiveness acquired maddening proportions. The mere thought that she was keeping something from him stirred some of his deep seated insecurities, although he knew better than to doubt her fidelity. He felt a primitive, animalistic urge to mark her as his own.

His lips moved closer to hers and his hands tigheted their grip on her shoulder, pushing her against the wall with even more force. It hurt her so much that she cried out his name, “Maan!”

But in his mad rage he mistook it to be her resistance towards his approaching kiss. He lost any human restraint that was still there in him. He jerked her body, pulling her close to him, wrapping his left arm around her. His grip was so tight that she could not even have moved a bit. Thankfully it was not hurting her like earlier.

With the other arm, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. She did not resist it and that ensured that she was not hurt.

“Tumhein mere kareeb aane se problem hai Geet? Rok sakti ho mujhe?” he hissed and assaulted her exposed neck with his lips and tongue.

If anyone else would have touched her in this manner, she would have felt disgusted and would have revolted. But with Maan – she understood this animal in him. His first and the last concern in the world was Geet. It may not have been an ideal manifestation of the concern, but this was just his way. She also hoped that it would calm down his anger a bit.

And if she meant the world to him, even he had a hold over her that defied any rationale. Even in this situation with him being so angry, and her being so scared, his touch was affecting her. Even if her brain had asked her to resist, her body would not let her. Her breathing became heavy as he furiously kissed, licked and nibbled on her neck, earlobes, shoulders, cheeks, chin, eyes and forehead. She would have lost her balance when he attacked her lips, except for the support his arms were providing. The long, demanding kiss left her breathless. ‘First kiss,’ she marked the moment permanently in her mind.

She was unstable when he finally withdrew from the kiss. As he looked at her tear-stained, dishevelled face, something struck him. He suddenly came back to his senses, left her and took a step back. She had to support herself against the wall when he left her. The anger and aggressiveness of his face disappared and was replaced by shock, which in turn was replaced by pain, disgust and disbelief. He stared at her for a moment and then suddenly left the room. It took her a while to regain composure and think about what had just happened.

—

By the time Geet recovered, Maan had left the room. Where would he have gone? She thought for a moment and she knew exactly where to look for him.

He was her husband now and and she should have been used to his closeness, his body and its effects on her. Yet when she saw him practising Tai-Chi, it had the same effect on her as was the case when she had seen him like this for the first time. She gasped. The difference was that then she was scared of the feelings and desires his well-toned body and his graceful moves evoked in her. This time she could give in to them. She forgot about all the issues, all the tension they had to tackle. For those few moments, she forgot about everything that was bothering them. She walked towards him in a trance.

Strangely though he did not notice her. He was too absorbed with himself. He was done with Tai-chi and was doing stomach crunches lying on the floor. She observed him for couple of seconds. Suddenly she noticed the furiousness of his crunches and it brought her out of her trance.

He seemed totally oblivious to his surroundings, even of what he himself was doing. The crunches were so fast and furious that even with his training and practice, they could have hurt his body. Geet sensed trouble and called his name to bring him out of his thoughts. But he did not listen to her. She got scared and cried out loud, “Maan!”

He heard her this time. He looked blank for a moment as if he was not able to understand what was going on. And the he looked at her. Her eyes were filled with tears of concern and worry.

Maan got up. “Kya hua Geet?” he asked in a concerned and calm voice.

She did not reply, instead just stared at him for a few seconds. Then went ahead and hugged him tight putting her arms around his bare upper body.

Maan was confused, but responding to her hug was his natural reaction. He closed his eyes feeling her so close to himself and tightened his grip around her body. Both of them lost a sense of time as they stayed in that hug for at least a minute or two before breaking it.

It was Maan who became conscious first, broke the hug and stepped back creating some physical distance between them. He looked at Geet and figured that she was calm now.

She first needed to clear his immediate misunderstanding, but she suddenly became conscious of their closeness and his bare body. She stuttered, “Maan… Woh… abhi maine… kamre mein… main aapko rok nahin… rahi thi…”

“I am sorry Geet. Maine phir se tumhare saath galat…”

“Nahin. Nahin Maan. Aap sorry kyon kah rahe hain? Ye to…” she hesitated, but added with lowered eyes, “aapka haq hai. Main bas ye kah rahi thi ki main aapko rok nahin rahi thi. Aapne zor se pakad rakha tha to mujhe dard ho raha tha – isliye…”

“Kya? Geet tum theek to ho na? Tumne kuchh kaha kyon nahin Geet? Nahin – mujhe khud hi dhyaan rakhna chahiye tha. I am sorry Geet. Tum theek to ho…”

“Maan!” she interrupted, “Main bilkul theek hoon. Aap please shaant ho jaiye.”

They both were silent for a few seconds. Maan broke the silence.

“Geet tum kamre mein ja kar aaraam karo.”

“Mujhe aapke sawalon ke jawaab dene hain Maan. Aap please…”

“Nahin Geet. Main pahle hi tumhein bahut pareshaan kar chuka hoon. Mujhe kuchh nahin poochhna hai tumse. Doctor ne tumhein stree-free rakhne ko kaha hai aur main tumhara khayal rakhne ki jagah tumhare saath…”

Tears again clouded her eyes as she raised her hand to cover his lips and shut him up, “Bas Maan! Khud ko blame karna band kijiye. Mujhe pata hai ki aap gussa hain. Aur agar aapko gussa aa raha hai to khud par mat nikaliye. Mujhpe gussa kijiye. Yahi sahi bhi hai. Saare problems ki wajah main hi to hoon.”

“Geet. Aisa kyon kah rahi ho? Aisi kya problem aa gayi hai, jisne tumhein…?”

“Meri zidd thi, meri galti thi jiski wajah se woh accident hua aur aapki jaan khatre mein pad gayi…”

“Phir se ye baat kyon Geet? Maine kaha tha na tumse ki tumne hi meri jaan bachayi bhi hai.”

“Maine aapki jaan nahin bachayi hai Maan. Main bacha hi nahin sakti thi.”

Maan looked at her questioningly and did not say anything.

“Aapki jaan… Aapki jaan apna khoon de kar… Dev ne bachayi hai.”

Did he hear that right? Dev? She had to take Dev’s help to save his life. He felt like his entire world had come crashing down. He was indebted to that low-life for saving his life. Why did Geet do that? Why Dev? Why not someone else?

—

To be continued

 

His Obsession (Part 3 – Last Part)

Posted MishLeave a commentPosted in Fan Fiction, Hinglish, Maneet (GHSP)

Maan saw Dadi Ma pacing up and down in her room. He felt bad, but right now his first concern was that she had behaved irresponsibly towards Geet.

“Dadi Ma!”

“Maan bete. Aap? Aapne Dev se kya kaha hai?”

“Main batata hoon Dadi Ma. Aapko chinta karne ki koi zaroorat nahin hai. Lekin aapko nahin lagta ki Dev ki chinta mein aapne Geet ke saath zyadati ki hai? Aap jaanti hain ki woh pregnant hai, aur doctor ne use stress na lene ke liye kaha hai. Aapne Dev ki baat mujhse chhupane mein use kyon involve kiya? Agar is stress mein uski tabiyat kharaab ho jaati to?”

“Maan beta. Hamein kuchh samajh mein nahin aa raha. Hum kya karte? Hum maante hain ki Dev ne jo Geet ke saath kiya woh maafi ke kaabil nahin hai. Lekin apne dil ka bhi hum kya karein. Aakhir hain to Dev bhi hamare pote hi na. Woh museebat mein the. Maut ki kagaar par khade the. Aise mein hum unse kaise munh mod lete?”

“Dadi Ma. Jo bhi baat thi aapko mujhe batani chahiye thi. Aap please mujhse waada kijiye ki aap Geet ko aise asmanjas mein nahin daalengi. Woh bahut pareshaan ho jaati hai. Please Dadi Ma.” He was polite, but it was clear that he would not have it any other way.

“Theek hai beta.”

“Dadi Ma. Maine Dev ko uske khoon ke keemat de di hai. Main use sadkon par besahara nahin chhod raha hoon. Agar woh poori zindagi apni ungli bhi na uthana chahe, to bhi use bhookhon nahin marna padega. Lekin isse zyada main uske liye kuchh nahin kar sakta. Aur woh hamare saath nahin rah sakta. Na sirf Geet ko, balki usse zyada mujhe uska hamare aas paas hona manzoor nahin hai.”

Dadi Ma knew her grand son well. There was no way she could get any more concession from him. So, she agreed.

When the three of them met the dinner table, Maan made extra efforts to make the environment cordial and tension-free by teasing Geet. Dadi understood his intention and played along.

—

When they reached their room after the dinner, Maan pretended as if he suddenly remembered something, “Geet. Doctor ne tumhare liye massage recommend kiya tha. To chalo abhi.”

“Abhi? Maan raat ho chuki hai. Abhi kahan jayenge. Main kal din mein chali jaungi.”

“Nahin Geet. Maine spa waalon se baat kar ke ghar par hi intezaam karwa liya hai. Chalo to sahi. Aur abhi massage karwane se tumehin neend bhi achchhi aayegi.”

He dragged a confused Geet to the door of another room and asked her to get in. What was the hurry to get a massage? She entered the room, which was dimly lit and had had a subtle, soothing fragrance. The room was set up like a spa with a suitably relaxing atmosphere. She found the spa staff there, two girls in their uniforms. One of them handed her a robe and asked her to get undressed and come back in the robe. Geet went to the bathroom to change.

She came out and found no one in the room. She came to the massage table that was put up in the room and startd walking backwards in confusion, when she suddenly hit someone. She turned back startled to find Maan staring at her with such intensity that she could not miss it even in the dimly lit room. He had changed into his vests and pajamas.

“Aap? Woh spa waale log kahan hain?”

Maan replied in a husky voice, “Geet. Tumhein lagta hai ki mere rahte main kissi ko tumehin haath lagane doonga?”

“Maan. Woh ladkiyan hain.”

“Koi bhi ho. Tumhein chhone ka haq sirf mujhe hai. Samjhi tum?”

“To massage kaun karega?” She tried to tease him.

“Yahan mere alawa to koi hai nahin?”

“Maan – aap ye shararatein band kar dijiye,” she tried to bring sternness in her voice, but it drowned as Maan picked her up in his arms.

He made her sit on the massage table and untied the belt of her robe. The robe stayed in its place. He asked her to lie down on her stomach and she complied silently. He pulled off her robe from her shoulders exposing her shoulders and upper back for a while. He covered her with a long massage towel before taking off the robe completely. Geet shivered.

He started with massaging her arms, gently kneading the muscles and she relaxed. But after that the entire massage was an exercise of sweet torture for her. He turned his attention to her legs after the arms. His touches grew sensual, as he massaged the muscles around her ankles and toes.He slowly pushed the towel up as he massaged her calf muscles and then thighs. The towel was barely covering her hips and she gasped. A mix of relaxation and arousal was driving her crazy. The he covered her legs with the towel and uncovered her shoulders and back. While massaging her shoulders, his hands strayed to her nape, neck and upper chest, leaving her breathless. This wasn’t going to help her sleep better. He massaged her back after that and in between touched her spine lightly. It sent such sensations through her body that she could not keep still and her body jerked.

Maan smiled and asked naughily in his heavy voice, “Kya hua Geet?”

Her breathing was heavy and she did not reply. He then asked her to turn around. She did that trying to keep herself covered with the towel to the extent possible. He massaged the front of her legs, including thighs, once again causing her to hold her breath. Then he massaged her forehand lightly and it really relaxed her. All the tension she had been carrying for past few days seemed to leave her with his touch. He also expertly pressed her eyes and she felt good.

Then his hands roamed all over her face and she knew it was not a part of the massage. He stroked her hair, crushed her ears, rubbed her cheeks and touched her lips. His touches became rougher and demanding. The massage table was not big enough for what he wanted next. He picked her up, deposited her on the bed and climbed beside her. He repeated the massage, only this time he explored her body with his lips and not hands. Geet drowned in the feelings and reached out to hold and touch him. Her eyes were closed. As she reached his shoulders, she realized that he had undressed himself. She surprised Maan by pulling him closer to herself. Maan stared at her lips and attacked them furiously. The passion and desire that both of them had checked for months came pouring out and the night witnessed their passionate, yet sweet union.

After they had caught their breath lying next to each other, Maan turned to Geet and kissed her on the forehead, “I love you Geet.”

Geet smiled, but felt too shy to say anything. She lifted her head a bit and kissed him on his chest where his heart was. Shy and bold at the same time, she enamoured Maan. He tightened his arms around her as they drifted off to sleep feeling safe and content with each other’s closeness.

– The End –

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